Murphy muddles through the workmanlike art-rock of openers "Velocity Bird" and "See Saw Sway" before hitting confident stride on "I Spit Roses" And "Never Fall out." [Aug 2011, p.94]

For this fifth album, she changes tack again, gaining in clarity what she loses in originality. [Aug 2011, p.94]

Ritual Union makes it three alums without a remotely duff--or dull--moment. [Aug 2011, p.93]

Production-wise, his hallmark arrhythmic snares are now sounding a little rote nearly a decade after their inception. [Aug 2011, p.104]

Guitarist Dave W and company gather up Krautrock, Loop, Acid Mothers Temple, Cul De Sac and a host of other materials with radioactive long life to create a fusion intended as toxic blowback in the faces of right-wing America. It's a face-melting combination. [Aug 2011, p.104]

Africa's new axe hero marches on. [Aug 2011, p.104]

Jeremy Earl's endearing falsetto and excellent songwriting holds it all together. Aug 2011, p.107]

Virtually every song repeats the same trick, as the fervent but tuneless bark of singer Ellery Robert begins to grate. {Aug 2011, p.107]

Youngs' atonal yelpings and the bizarre tangents his big guitar shapes take won't be to the tastes of those who like their music a tad less askew--but acclimatise yourself to Young's off-kilter take and there are some rewards here. [Aug 2011, p.107]

His tools may be blunt, and too many tracks sound like unfinished sketches, but Zomby manages to summon a uniquely unsettling atmosphere. [Aug 2011, p.107]

R.E.M. were already walking head and shoulders taller than most by now, but Life's Rich Pageant was nevertheless a startlingly great leap forward. [Aug 2011, p.102]

Hawk's followup hints at a talent that will outlive hipster buzz, drawing not just from hazy '80s nostalgia, but from the artists who populated his own youth. [Aug 2011, p.93]

Fun, if inessential. [Aug 2011, p.93]

Arcade Fire producer Craig Silvey and a slick session band sculpt an impressively spacey sound, but LaVere's self-conscious, bored voice strangles everything at birth. [Aug 2011, p.93]

Much of it is a coffee-table approximation of the producer duo's more irreverent work. [Aug 2011, p.89]

Within And Without charts a familiar shimmery beachscape between Julee Cruise and Lynchpop, early OMD and Slowdive. A couple tracks emerge from the haze. [Aug 2011, p.89]

Pressure & Time is short enough to fit on two sides of vinyl and, quaintly, leaves you wanting much more. [Aug 2011, p.89]

Pretty electro-pop with jagged edges, and a lingering mood of sumptuous disorientation. [Aug 2011, p.87]

That old adage about the quiet ones hold true for Elanor, whose debut capitalizes on I'm Going Away's fleeting ease. [Aug 2011, p.87]

It's far from original, but nonetheless highly effective, and the sweaty, lad-friendly nature of the title betrays its inherent good humour. [Aug 2011, p.82]

[Guy Berryman's] radio-friendly approach adds depth without sacrificing detail. [Jun 2011, p.93]

Mick Barr's guitar work is hugely impressive, apparently concerned with documenting an infinite number of riffs, but the length of the compositions--often around 12 minutes--rather test the limits of endurance. [Aug 2011, p.90]

The tracka are overlong and the ubiquitous fuzz pedal makes "Sedatives" and "King Of Kings" sound like a narcoleptic Screwdriver, but it's hard to knock Jesu's dedication to the sad, slow and contemplative. [Aug 2011, p.90]

Here, the 35-year -old is once again joined by co-producer/multi-instrumentalist Shahzad Ismaily, who provides settings that ate mostly empty, the better to allow Holland's mystical persona to fully inhabit them, as she sings in an elongated East Texas Drawl that curls like smoke rings. [Aug 2011, p.90]

For all their poppy ambition, the highlights are probably "Chemtrails," a wicked fuzz of gospel narco-bliss, and "Sunday Morning," a smacked-up take on "Penny Lane." [Aug 2011, p.89]

"Ishadlak Ya Khey," featuring Doueh's son Hamdan Bamaar on full drum kit, and pops busting out some flange-soaked solos, is a pleasingly noisy, impolite fusion. [Aug 2011, p.87]

The characters we meet in many of the album's other fine songs are just as vividly rendered. [Aug 2011, p.86]

Finn seems more at home with the melancholy Paul Simon-isms of "Little Words" than with "The Struggle," a strained attempt to get weird and wired. [Aug 2011, p.84]

It's a well-judged mix; safe enough to satisfy the easy-listening end of Peyroux's following, but bold enough to show that among the jazzy, post-Norah crowd, the wayward Maddy stands apart. [Aug 2011, p.83]

There's nothing particularly jaw-dropping about it, and at times it's too cute and wimpy, but it's a decent change in direction from diskJokke's cosmic house sides. [Aug 2011, p.82]

Their equally unexpected return sees them back on full-tilt, pivot-on0a-penny form, with their own label and--judging from that title--hardened professional resolve. [Aug 2011, p.81]

The weakness is the music. [Aug 2011, p.79]

Their sixth sees Mark Ronson step in as producer on all but two tracks, and although he;s resisted the temptation to slather on Stax horns and apply his slick finish, he's given this tough, roughly energetic band focus and finesse. [Aug 2011, p.79]

Skying, The Horrors' third, again brilliantly confounds expectations. [Aug 2011, p.76]

Ironic jape or not, Shangri-La captures the DFA label aesthetic perfectly, blending electro post-punk, disco and art-pop with conceptual elan, and icing the cake with dance-friendly production. [Jul 2011, p.103]

Rare Bird Alert, recorded with the Steep Canyon Rangers, is a more rounded than 2009's mostly instrumental The Crow. [Jul 2011, p.92]

You can not fault the passion of the songs or the tasteful nature of the playing, but it's difficult to see what of himself, besides an admiration for Bob or Bruce, he's actually serving up here. [Oct 20101, p.101]

Anyone who's enjoyed a fruitful encounter with Ariel Pink's home-recorded oeuvre should also find plenty to love about John Maus. [Jul 2011, p.91]

Opening with the dolorous drones of "They Being Dead Yet Speaketh," Johannsson slowly builds to the rousing "The Cause Of Labour Is The Hope Of The World," a transcendent fanfare for the common man. [Jul 2011, p.88]

Such a see-what-sticks approach means Native To clunks in places, but when they get it right their enthusiasm is infectious. [Jul 2011, p.87]

Dig deeper into This Is The Computers, recorded at the San Diego home of former Rocket From The Crypt man John Reis, and it's clear they have a pop heart. [Jul 2011, p.86]

Despite stuffing their saddle bags full of choice musical cuts old and new, The Middle East somehow contrive to sound like nobody but their own sweet selves. [Jul 2011, p.86]

Emeralds and Oneohtrix may do this kind of hypnotic synth drone stuff better, but Blanck Mass is still a fairly potent concoction. [Jul 2011, p.77]

For what keeps Field Songs on the right side of unyielding darkness, what keeps it ringing with an affirming note of beauty, is the certain knowledge that however black it gets, "the sun's about to rise."

No shocks here, perhaps, but their fractal Technicolor pop is always a joy. [Jul 2011, p.87]

Superior, though, is Heavy Rocks, the group's second release to go by that name. [Jul 2011, p.79]

Attention Please sits at the softer end of the spectrum, a melodic set showcasing the sultry vocals of guitarist Wata. [Jul 2011, p.79]

The Harrow and the Harvest is kin to not dissimilar works by Uncle Earl, Crooked Still, Kate Fagan, even Steve Earle's rumbustious bluegrass outing with Del McCoury--and blessed by the insuperable advantage of Welch's voice. [Jul 2011, p.74]

Your cider-drinking soundtrack for this summer is here. [Jul 2011, p.100]

Warts, ugly cousins, blazes of greatness and all, however, A Treasure makes a perfect snapshot of this ornery, shapeshifting moment. [Jul 2011, p.98]

His more emphatic, aggressive muse is unique and subtly disquieting. [Jul 2011, p.96]

I Love You, Go easy represents a minor stumble. [Jul 2011, p.96]

The contrast between Adele Bethel's sassy snap and Scott Paterson's rousing holler is expertly deployed, resulting in a stirring record, packed full of ideas, from a band who seem to have rediscovered their spirit of adventure. [Jul 2011, p.94]

Even if you can't understand the radical message, you can at least revel in the kind of freewheeling summer backpacking soundtrack at which Chao excels. [Jul 2011, p.94]

Laswell provides an accomplished, opulent dub setting. But it's at blandish odds with the lo-tech wildness of Perry's own original Black Ark recordings. [Jul 2011, p.93]

These four compositions are not without precedent, but all push at conventions of melody, space, tonality, rhythm and timbre. [Jul 2011, p.90]

A couple of tame moments should have hit the cutting room floor, but this is otherwise flawless. [Jul 2011, p.88]

Channel Pressure asks some complex questions about pop's obsession with nostalgia, although the likes of "Joey Rogers" and "The Voices"--with hints of Daft Punk's "Digital Love"--also functions as irresistible pop tunes on a more basic level. [Jul 2011, p.82]

They're marching to a '90s beat, like the internet never happened and fresh tools were never invented. [Jul 2011, p.77]

The Antlers, fronted by the sepulcral warble of Peter Silberman, manage to distinguish themselves slightly from these shuffling, mournful legions by bringing to bear a gently epic sensibility that verges on the orchestral. [Jul 2011, p.77]

Despite Wolf's best efforts, he's not built for homely pleasures--and you sense his need for drama straining at the leash. [Jun 2011, p.103]

Two albums on and they're still assembling a uniquely imaginative mythology. [Jul 2011, p.82]

D is a technical tour de force. [Jul 2011, p.89]

Despite several terrific individual tracks, this record ultimately derives its considerable strength from a renewed appreciation of the power of collective identity. [Jul 2011, p.90]

There are moments where the weirdly wonderful pagan pixie princess pokes through. [Jul 2011, p.90]

Nashville is clearly a home away from home, though, as this set from September 2008 proves. [Jul 2011, p.92]

Her aching voice is more lived in than her years suggest. [Jul 2011, p.92]

Pants gas ditched electro-funk in favour of the kind of woozy, nu-gazing reveries crafted by Beach House, Girls and teenage Fantasy. Not that it's all whacked-pout bliss-pop. [Jul 2011, p.93]

A prophetically titled record that does exactly what it promises. [Jul 2011, p.94]

Their fourth album amps up the synths-and-beats side of their new wave Scandi-rock aesthetic, with broadly positive results. [Jul 2011, p.94]

Truly terrific. [Jul 2011, p.96]

His fine fourth album sees him thicken his sound a little, layering jazzy brass and full-blooded surf-rock twangs over austere acoustic foundations. [Jul 2011, p.96]

He appears, so far as it's possible to tell, a competent ukulelist, and his parched baritone remains effective--but this doesn't to understate matters wildly, seems quite the best use of his skills. [Jul 2011, p.96]

Some of the more routine synth-pop cuts lack weight, but the distant echoes of A-Ha's "The Living Daylights" buried within "Musketeer" are wholly endearing. [Jul 2011, p.103]

The multi-ethnic Jessica 6 blend disco, soul, house and melodramatic ballads with both skill and affection. [Jul 2011, p.87]

This injection-moulded pastiche isn't exactly bad, but feels totally pointless. [Jul 2011, p.86]

The 23-track set--material oft-mired in legal entanglements--which range from hit for others, to darkly melodic deep catalogue gems. Diamond himself provides highly entertaining liner notes. [Jul 2011, p.82]

Anyone seeking the funky militancy of The Beatnigs or The Disposable Heroes Of Hiphoprisy may be baffled. [Jul 2011, p.82]

Fully realised in its ambition, Bon Iver possesses all the austere beauty and understated emotiveness of its predecessor. [Jul 2011, p.81]

The Donkeys' debut album was impressive enough, but there;s even more to admire in this fine follow-up. [Jul 2011, p.80]

Unique, captivating stuff. [Jul 2011, p.80]

Feeling more airbrushed than lo-fi. [Jul 2011, p.79]

The departure of vocalist Tyondai Braxton appears to have knocked them off stride a little, but they are certainly an ensemble group, and a raft of guests keep things frisky. [Jul 2011, p.77]

There are still touches of the Streolab/Broadcast school of archaic electronics, but Alpers' melodies are now fuller and richer, and texturally Bachelorette brims with contrast. [Jul 2011, p.77]

It's a record that goes a long way toward breathing new life into the busted flush of English indie with a romantic Britpop sound that stands comparisons with The Smiths, The La's and New Order. But in order to complete that leap--and make a record that equals the impact of their first--the lead guitarist needs to give the songwriter a good, hard kick up the arse. [Jul 2011, p.78]

Dengue Fever come on like an art-trash cross between Talking Heads and X, with a crucial side order of B-52's. Their irreverent pop clinches the deal on "Cement Slippers." [Jun 2011, p.80]

It's a long time since a debut album forged its influences into something quite as fresh and rich as this. [May 2011, p.87]

Roadkill Rising, merging generally strong performances with reasonable-quality recordings, manages the thorny task of excerpting some 20-plus concert tapes into a cogent history. [Jun 2011, p.94]

Air Museums doesn't quite have the same freewheeling energy of Moebius and Roedelius' pioneering kosmische, and at time the music seems to hang oppressively in the air rather, instead of questing forward. [Jun 2011, p.91]

Destroyed is up there with his career peaks. [Jun 2011, p.91]

Lollipop is their 13th Studio album, and one of their best. [Jun 2011, p.91]

Their eight album of earnest, limpid lullabies is notable once again for the spangled guitar of long-term collaborator, Ghost's Michio Kurihana. [Jun 2011, p.80]

Her seventh solo album is effectively her third LP of self-penned pop songs, and it suits her bawdy contralto voice rather better. [Jun 2011, p.79]

On Dissolve, his best LP to date, he's gone full colour. [Jun 2011, p.79]

Art Brut's fourth album marries attractively sloppy garage-rock riffing to boozy bad-sex confessionals and bittersweet self-examination. [Jun 2011, p.77]

If there's a tiny problem, it's that such sonic weirdness detracts a little from Del's entertaining rhymes. [Jun 2011, p.80]

Wells adds waves of beauty, and flurries of click-track neurosis to Moffat's dispatches from the fringes of self-disgust. [Jun 2011, p.91]

While the likes of Living It Out are perfecting mutant disco, Rostron's self-consciousness means this expertly produced set suffers from too much quirkiness. [Jun 2011, p.93]